


countdown

by angstinspace



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergent, Confessions, M/M, Post canon, aka allura and adam are alive, and we are beginning zine, canonverse, implied adashi and hunay and romellura, kicking ass in formal wear, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23830567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstinspace/pseuds/angstinspace
Summary: "Keith." Lance reaches out to grip his wrist. "I'm not leaving you."There might have been a time when those words would have made Keith the happiest person in the universe––but not now, not like this. He looks down, noticing that the flashing numerals on the screen have dwindled to two digits. Which he figures means they have less than a minute left.Two years after the war, Team Voltron reunites on the night of Allura's coronation as queen of New Altea. But when an unexpected attack occurs, Keith and Lance are tasked with dismantling a bomb planted in the basement of the castle––and are left to face some unresolved tension in the process.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 531





	countdown

**Author's Note:**

> so!! i wrote this fic uhh probably about a year ago by now, for the klance zine "[and we are beginning...](https://kl-beginning-zine.tumblr.com/)" and now we can finally publicly post our pieces, so yay!!!
> 
> this fic was mostly inspired by [this scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wi0XzqnYhcA) from "chuck" and also from me listening to "[timebomb](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOqjJkrywhU)" by walk the moon a million times and thinking about klance and crying. oh also i always wanted to write a fic where everyone kicks ass in formal wear because that's my Aesthetic. 
> 
> this is post-canon but like....pretend the last two seasons never happened because i never watched them and i pretend they don't exist. so yeah allura and adam are well and alive in this fic lol. 
> 
> also this is a sliiiightly different version from what ended up in the zine - mostly just that this one is a teensy bit longer and includes a short scene that i cut out of my final zine piece to meet the word limit. 
> 
> thank you to [sierra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyestiel), [noelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/generichero), and [miranda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bdisneystreet) for beta-ing this for me (although it was so long ago by now you probably don't even remember it lol). and thank you to the mods of "and we are beginning..." for accepting me into the zine - it was so much fun to participate and i really enjoyed writing this piece!
> 
> and with that, i hope y'all enjoy this and thanks for reading!!

Keith is not a fan of parties.

He’s at least managed to sneak off into a shadowy alcove for now, leaning against one of the tall pillars that line the ballroom. But the excess of light, noise, and social interaction is starting to make his head feel fuzzy.

The milling throng blurs into a sea of color and noise. Aliens have gathered from far across the universe to attend Allura’s coronation as queen of New Altea. The actual ceremony will take place later this evening, but the festivities will last for several days. Apparently Alteans don’t mess around when it comes to celebrations. 

Keith fiddles with the end of his tie. Although Shiro tried to show him how to tie it properly, it was a lost cause. It only makes Keith feel like he’s being strangled, and he keeps loosening it even though he knows it probably looks sloppy.

His gaze roams over the crowd in search of familiar faces. He arrived here with Shiro and Adam earlier, he held a brief friendly conversation with Hunk and Shay, and he received an enthusiastic tackle-hug from Pidge. He’s caught a few glimpses of Allura; of course, she’s been so busy conversing with all the attendees that Keith hasn’t even spoken to her yet.

But there’s one member of Team Voltron that Keith hasn’t seen yet––and the turmoil of anticipation and anxiety has his heart already climbing into his throat.

He tries to suppress the embarrassing feeling, looking around at the impressive architecture of the newly-rebuilt castle. The high, arching ceiling is painted with stars, and enormous chandeliers dangle in the air above the crowd.

Just then, a shadow falls over him.

“Hey, stranger. You come here often?”

A prickling sensation rushes up Keith’s spine. He would know that voice anywhere, and he only knows one person who would open with a line _that_ corny. 

When he turns to see who it is, his heart plummets into his stomach, because––sure enough––it’s Lance, and he looks … good. _Very_ good. It’s unfair, really. His bluish-gray suit compliments every angle of his body and hugs his broad shoulders in a way that makes Keith’s mouth suddenly feel dry. It also makes him terribly self-conscious about his own appearance; the dark purple suit he borrowed from Shiro is slightly too big for him, and his tie is so loose by now that the knot is practically halfway down his chest. 

Lance leans one hand casually against the pillar, his other hand resting on his hip. His facial features have changed over the years since Keith first met him––the angles a bit sharper, a faint scar notched across his left eyebrow. But the trademark crooked grin he’s sporting has never changed. Keith has seen it countless times––a wicked smile before he’s about to crack a joke, a triumphant smirk in the middle of battle, a relieved laugh every time they’ve stared death in the face and made it out alive.

“Lance,” he says, which is about the only thing his brain seems able to supply. “I … hey.” He straightens his tie and prays that his face isn’t as red as it feels.

“Hey,” Lance says, then steps forward to throw his arms around Keith in a crushing hug. 

Although it catches Keith off-guard, there’s something so natural about the gesture that he can’t help but settle into the embrace. He wraps his arms around Lance in return and relishes the familiar, solid feel of him. He didn’t realize until now how touch-starved he’s been the past few months, after endless days of roaming the universe on Blade missions.

Lance steps back, hands lingering on Keith’s shoulders before they drop to his sides. There still isn’t much distance between them, but to Keith it feels like a wide abyss.

Things between him and Lance have been .... _strange_ lately, and it’s not just because of the months of separation. In the two years since the war ended, they’ve still kept in touch and seen each other at various diplomatic events. But things aren’t what they used to be. Gone are their days of childish rivalry, but also so are the days when they fought alongside each other––when Lance was a shoulder to lean on in times of distress. His right hand, his best friend, his stability. They seem to have lost their footing somewhere along the way about where their relationship stands, and Keith can’t help but feel a deep ache in his chest from the lack of closure. 

He blames himself, of course. During the war, it was easy to blame his feelings on one thing or another––a rush of adrenaline, a lack of better judgement in a time of crisis, _something_. Now, with the war behind them, the excuses are seeping away like grains of sand in an hourglass. He still feels the same way, and it makes every interaction with Lance all the more disastrous.

“Keith?”

“Hmm?” Keith blinks and realizes Lance must have asked him a question. “Oh––sorry. Couldn’t hear you over the …” He gestures at the ballroom around them, noisy with chatter and music. 

Lance chuckles. “It’s alright. I just asked how the Blade missions are going.”

“They’re … going. Still a lot of cleanup. Handing out supplies, repairing damages, tracking down remaining Galra Empire sympathizers. The usual.” 

He tries to downplay it as much as possible, but he sees the way Lance’s mouth sets in a grim line at the mention of Galra Empire sympathizers. Even after the end of the war, many of Zarkon’s former supporters still remain––many of whom have been committing acts of terror throughout the galaxies, and who are openly against the rise of New Altea and Allura’s reign. 

Hoping to avoid the subject, Keith asks, “How’s the Garrison?” 

Lance’s expression brightens. “Oh, it’s great! I’ve been teaching there … gosh, about a year now? Crazy how time passes, huh?”

It’s true. It’s strange how it simultaneously feels like a century ago that they first left Earth in the Blue Lion, and also like it only happened yesterday. 

“So,” Lance says. He adjusts his seafoam-green tie and glances over Keith’s shoulder. “Did you come here by yourself?”

“Oh … yeah. My mom and the other Blade members were invited, but they couldn’t make it. Important missions and stuff.”

“Right, right.” Lance is oddly fidgety all of a sudden, fiddling with one of his lapels, scratching the back of his neck. “So, there’s no one else you might’ve, uh … brought with you?” 

Keith frowns. What is Lance getting at? It almost sounds like he’s asking––

“Keith! Lance!” 

They both look up to see Allura coming towards them through the crowd. Her white dress is so dazzling that Keith almost has to squint to look at it. Small crystals are sewn into the billowing skirt in detailed patterns, reflecting the light in a sparkling display. Her hair is pulled back in an intricate updo, and she wears elbow-length white gloves on her hands, which are clasped excitedly against her chest. 

“Allura!” Lance breaks into a grin. “Wow, you look amazing.”

A sharp, cold feeling bursts in Keith’s chest, even though––as far as he’s aware––Lance’s feelings for Allura are a thing of the past and likely unrequited. He tries his best to tamp it down, silently reprimanding himself. He should be focusing on the celebration, not getting distracted by some ridiculous crush that he should have overcome years ago. 

“Thank you, Lance. I’m so glad both of you could come!” Allura wraps an arm around each of them, pulling them into a tight hug. 

Keith pats her on the back, laughing softly. “Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss it for the universe.”

When Allura steps back, she’s smiling giddily and her eyes shimmer in the light. Keith smiles back. He really is happy to see how far she’s come. Although he knows she can never fully heal from all the tragic loss she’s suffered, it’s amazing to see her finally become the queen of her own nation. It’s everything she deserves and more.

“I apologize that I haven’t gotten a chance to speak to either of you yet. There are so many people here, I think I’ve talked to at least a hundred and that’s barely the beginning.”

“It’s okay,” Lance says. “It’s your night, after all. I’m sure everybody wants to talk to you.”

“Yes, I suppose it’s understandable. It can just get a tad overwhelming.” 

“I can imagine. Well, you can always come talk to us if you just need to see a couple of familiar faces.” Lance winks. “A couple of very handsome ones, at that.”

Normally, Keith would roll his eyes at such comments from Lance, but … did Lance just imply he was _handsome_? 

Allura laughs. “Well, it’s good to see you haven’t lost your … charm, Lance. Anyway, I appreciate the offer. It’s wonderful to have the whole team back together, isn’t it?” 

“It sure is,” says Lance. “Especially when no one is trying to kill us.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” Keith says with a smirk.

Allura looks like she’s about to say something else, when she stops and turns to look at a sudden movement in the crowd. Keith follows her gaze and feels the smile fade from his face when he sees what she’s looking at. 

A royal guard is headed straight towards them, pushing his way past the gathered guests as if he doesn’t even notice them standing in his path. By the time he reaches them, he’s gulping for breath and has a wild, panicked look in his eyes.

“Your Highness. There’s been a breach in security. A Galra Empire sympathizer was found placing a bomb outside the castle.”

It takes a moment for the words to settle in, and then Keith feels the blood drain from his face. He looks towards Lance on instinct, only to find that Lance is staring back at him with a mirrored expression of alarm.

“Well,” Lance says, “I guess I spoke too soon.”

––

The captured Galra Empire sympathizer stands in a small cell behind a glass wall, wrists bound with a pair of glowing handcuffs. He lifts his head as Team Voltron approaches––led by Allura, her hands clenched into fists and white skirt billowing around her as she marches forward. 

“Who are you working for?” she demands. “You’d better start speaking at once.”

The criminal seems unperturbed, his yellow eyes narrowed and a smug smile turning his mouth at one corner. If it wasn’t for the barrier separating them, Keith would probably punch that look off his face.

“Or what?” he drawls. “You’ll have me executed?”

Allura doesn’t answer, her jaw clenching.

“Just as I thought. Weak, just like your father before you.” 

Now Keith _really_ wants to punch the guy. He doesn’t realize he inadvertently took a step forward until he feels a hand on his forearm and looks up to find Lance standing next to him, mouth set in a grim line as he glares at the prisoner. 

“You Alteans are all the same. Preaching about peace as if you didn’t destroy our planet,” the criminal snarls. “Our emperor may have fallen, but we will not forget what Zarkon stood for––crushing Altea and taking our rightful reign of the universe. Vrepit sa.”

A frightening grin spreads across his face, gleaming with pointed teeth. His jaw works slightly and––

A cold feeling rushes through Keith’s veins. The movement is subtle, but he’s seen it enough times recently to know what it entails. “ _No_ ,” he blurts out, rushing forward––but he knows there’s nothing he can do. 

The Galra sympathizer bites down on something hidden in his mouth. He spits against the glass, and then collapses. 

Everyone jumps back in alarm with a collective, sharp gasp. 

“Oh, man,” Hunk murmurs. “Is he … dead?” 

“No,” Keith says grimly. He takes another step forward to examine the spit running down the glass, his gut turning at the telltale blue tinge. “It’s a drug called Xanium. It puts you in a coma for a few days and then when you wake up your memory has been totally erased.”

Pidge gives him a wary look. “And you know this because … ?” 

“Some of the Blade members keep capsules of it on hand in case they ever get caught. You can keep it hidden under your tongue pretty easily, and then bite it in an emergency so that you won’t be able to give any information to the enemy.” Keith runs a hand down his face. “ _Damn it_ , I’m an idiot. I should have thought of––”

“Hey,” Lance cuts him off. “It’s not your fault, Keith. You couldn’t have known what this guy was gonna do.” He glances nervously at the criminal slumped on the ground. “All we can do now is come up with a plan. There could be other bombs planted around the castle.” 

Keith’s jaw clenches, but he nods. “You’re right.” Facing the group, he squares his shoulders as he tries to come up with the best course of action. “The guards already found one bomb. Pidge, Hunk––maybe you can hack into it somehow and find out if it has some kind of deactivation code?”

Pidge smirks. “Piece of cake.” She and Hunk high-five. 

“While the two of you get started on that, the rest of us can start scanning the castle. We’ll need to arm ourselves with something.” 

“There are stun-guns in the armory. I’d prefer no one get killed on the night of my coronation, even our enemies,” Allura says. 

“Got it. We’ll all do our best not to kill anyone or get ourselves killed, as usual. Anyone have any questions?”

Everyone shakes their heads, faces setting into familiar looks of determination. 

“Good. Then let’s head out.”

Lance grins. “Roger that, team leader.”

Despite the circumstances, Keith smiles back at him. It’s strange that even after a couple of years, it feels so natural to slip back into their previous roles. 

In some twisted way, it feels good to be back. 

––

Fortunately, the castle has a security system that can detect unrecognized technology, so they’re able to quickly map out where the other bombs are located. Unfortunately, it turns out there are four more bombs located around the castle perimeter and one in the basement. 

After they’ve solidified their plan and armed themselves, they split into groups. Allura and Shiro head outside to deactivate the bombs surrounding the castle, recruiting Romelle and Adam to help them. Hunk and Pidge stay in the control room to work on finding the deactivation code, and to guide the others to the bombs’ locations via the earpieces they’re all wearing. 

Which leaves Keith and Lance to find the bomb in the basement. 

“Gosh, I’m not used to the layout of the new castle,” Lance wheezes as they skid around a corner. “Is it just me or does this one have like, a bazillion more hallways?”

“Keith, Lance. There’s a hallway to your right that leads to an elevator shaft,” Hunk says into their comms. “Careful, there might be Galra trying to guard it.”

“Got it,” Lance says. He skids to a stop next to a pair of sliding doors, and Keith almost crashes into him. “Okay. As soon as we get through these doors, we need to be ready to face whatever’s on the other side. What’s the plan? Back-to-back?” 

It takes a moment for Keith to answer. He’s a little distracted by Lance’s appearance right now, still dressed in his suit and tie and holding his stun-gun up near his ear. He looks like the hero from one of those terrible action films he always used to make the team watch on movie nights. 

“I––yes,” Keith manages to say. “Good idea.”

“Then, let’s do this. On three. One … two …”

On _three_ , he slams a hand against the control panel and the doors open. Laser beams zip through the air as soon as they round the corner, and Lance ducks. Keith slips through the entrance after him, whirling around so their backs are pressed together.

His mind immediately jumps into battle mode––a process that’s almost as familiar as breathing. He takes note of the two black-clad figures rushing towards him as he raises his stun-gun. Luckily he’s quicker than they are, shooting a stun beam at each of them in rapid succession. He’s never been the best shot––not compared to Lance’s deadly accuracy, anyway––but he manages to meet each of his targets. They crumple to the floor, weapons dropping from their hands.

Keith lets out a breath and feels Lance’s shoulders relax against his at the same time. He almost forgot that their backs were still pressed together, and he quickly steps away. They turn to face each other, and Lance is wearing that trademark crooked grin again. 

“Not bad, samurai. They didn’t even see us coming.”

Something tight squeezes around Keith’s heart upon hearing the old nickname. “Thanks,” he says, smiling back––but then realizes they really shouldn’t be getting distracted right now. “Let’s get to the elevator.”

Almost as soon as the elevator doors slide shut behind them, there’s a crackling noise from their earpieces. Hunk’s voice comes through. 

“Keith and Lance, do you copy?”

“Yeah, we copy,” Keith answers. “What’s up?”

“The team outside is almost done deactivating the bombs around the castle. Have you guys found the one in the basement?”

“Not yet. We’re on our way down right now.” 

“I don’t mean to rush you guys, but there’s only like five minutes left until the bombs are set to go off. You have the deactivation device, right?”

Keith winces at the mention of the shortage of time, but he knows that panicking about it is the worst thing he can do. He pats his breast pocket, where he stored the small handheld device with the code programmed into it. 

“Yeah, we’ve got it. See you guys on the other side.”

“Okay, good luck.” Hunk says. “Love you guys.”

“Love you too, buddy,” Lance chimes in before the link goes dead.

The rest of their descent feels about a century long, even though it’s probably less than a minute. Keith shifts impatiently on his feet, nervous about the task before them and also hyper-aware of Lance’s presence. He feels like a teenager again, trapped in an elevator with his crush like something out of a stupid romantic comedy. Hopefully they won’t need to crawl up any elevator shafts this time.

The doors open, revealing a narrow passageway. The walls are lined with twisting pipes, a low humming noise fills the air, and the corridor is lit in a faint amber-tinted glow.

Keith steps forward, keeping a finger on the trigger of his weapon in case they stumble into any other adversaries. But as they maneuver through the labyrinth of the castle’s underbelly, the passages are empty and there’s no sound besides their echoing footsteps and the hissing of the pipes.

“We only have like three minutes left,” Lance pants out as they turn another corner. “Where’s the––”

“ _There_.”

Keith points towards the object on the floor––a vaguely dome-shaped metallic device that looks just like the one the guards confiscated earlier. A small panel is embedded in its surface, flashing with blinking symbols. 

They kneel down on either side of the bomb. Breathing hard, Keith fishes the small rectangular device from his pocket. He glances briefly at the symbols flashing across its orange screen, then presses on the symbol that’s supposed to wirelessly transmit the deactivation code.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters.

The symbols on the bomb keep flashing. Keith can only read minimal Galran, but he knows enough to recognize that the countdown has gotten to a low number.

“What’s happening?” Lance asks. “Is something wrong?”

“I––I don’t know. It doesn’t seem to be working.” Keith’s hand trembles as he pushes at the button on the screen again, but the digits keep counting down. “Hey, Hunk?” 

No response.

Keith curses. The cramped space around them suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter. His vision swims and he feels a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. 

“Keith? What should we––” 

“Get out of here.” The words come out more harshly than Keith intended, but in his panicked state he doesn’t care. 

“What?” 

“I can try to figure this out, but you … you need to leave, Lance. Now.”

“Oh, no. You are _not_ doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Your whole selfless hero act, thinking you can sacrifice yourself just like that."

"I'm not––" Keith starts to say, and then stops short, his jaw clenching. "We don't have time for this. Please, just––" 

"Keith." Lance reaches out to grip his wrist. "I'm not leaving you." 

There might have been a time when those words would have made Keith the happiest person in the universe––but not now, not like this. He looks down, noticing that the flashing numerals on the screen have dwindled to two digits. Which he figures means they have less than a minute left.

A faint noise escapes from him, something almost like a breathless and bitter laugh. He never thought it would end like this. It's ironic, really. They once fought an entire war, faced legions of battleships, took down an evil empire that was thousands of years old. And they were only _kids_ then. Now here they are, about to die in the basement of the castle because they can't deactivate a single bomb. 

He should feel terrified, but all he can feel is a debilitating numbness. The only emotion that manages to break through is a sense of devastation as he manages to look Lance in the eyes again. He finds Lance staring back at him with equal intensity, searching Keith’s face as if some significant answer is hidden there. His fingers grasp more tightly to Keith’s wrist, trembling.

Something catches in Keith’s throat. The passing seconds feel like millennia as he allows himself to take in every familiar detail of Lance’s face, too beyond caring at this point to feel ashamed or humiliated.

He regrets all the things he’s never told Lance. How important he is, how he’s one of the most selfless and heroic people Keith has ever known. Moments flash before his eyes––the first time he saw Lance in the crowded Garrison hallway, the awe he felt standing beside Lance as the Blue Lion came to life in front of them, Lance smiling weakly as Keith knelt down to hold his hand and ask if he was okay, Lance’s tearful grin when he saw Keith alive after their final battle was over. 

“Lance,” Keith says. Just his name, but it bears the weight of the universe. “I––”

The bomb makes a faint beeping noise and they both gasp. Keith reaches for Lance, a hand scrabbling at his shoulder like somehow that will prevent the explosion from ripping them both apart. His eyes squeeze shut and––

Nothing happens.

Keith waits one breathless moment and then cracks one eye open, still tense with dread as he looks down at the bomb.

The numbers have stopped counting down. 

“Oh.” Lance releases a wheezing breath. “Oh, my God.” 

They’re still huddled close together, holding onto each other. Keith doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before Lance pulls him forward into a tight embrace. The deactivation device falls from his hand and clatters to the floor, but he barely notices. 

All he can do is close his eyes as Lance’s forehead burrows against his shoulder, as he presses his hands against Lance’s back and feels a shuddering under his palms that might be a laugh or a sob. It doesn’t matter. They’re _alive_. 

Lance pulls back again, a tremulous grin of relief lighting up his features. Keith returns the smile, but it only lasts a moment before he feels a shift in the air between them. Lance must feel it too, judging by the way he sobers all of a sudden, a furrow creasing his brow.

Everything seems hazy and yet painfully clear––their labored breathing in the stillness, the sweltering heat of the space around them, Lance’s steadying hands clutching at Keith’s upper arms. 

“Keith?” Lance’s voice is low and hoarse in a way that makes Keith’s pulse skip traitorously. 

“Yeah?” he manages to answer just as softly, his head spinning. 

Lance’s gaze lingers on Keith’s eyes but then flicks downwards, a sudden look of determination crossing his face before he leans in and––

“ _Keith! Lance!_ ”

They spring apart as if compelled by a fiery explosion––as if the bomb really _did_ go off. Keith immediately feels the absence of Lance’s touch, of the sensation of Lance’s breath against his mouth. He quickly gathers his wits enough to answer, “Hunk?” 

“Oh … oh, thank goodness.” Hunk lets out a heavy breath over the comms. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Keith answers, staring intently at the deactivated bomb and trying to ignore the heat rising to his face. “It, uh, took a minute for the deactivation code to work, but luckily it shut down the bomb just in time.”

“You guys had me scared there for a minute. I couldn’t reach you for some reason––I think maybe all the tech in the basement was interfering. Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay. All the bombs outside the castle have been deactivated, and the guards captured the rest of the Galra Empire sympathizers.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Lance breathes out, then shoots Keith an easy grin and a wink. “Guess we’ve still got it, huh?”

––

Thankfully, the rest of the evening passes without conflict. The team reunites with relieved smiles and tight hugs––a post-battle high that Keith hasn’t experienced in ages.

The coronation ceremony is an emotional event, at once celebratory and somber. The conflicting emotions are apparent on Allura’s face when Coran places the glittering crown on her head––evidently mourning the loss of her family and home planet, but also hopeful for the future.

Keith pays close attention during the ceremony, of course, but his mind keeps drifting to the evening's earlier events. Even though he knows they’re safe now, he remains tense and on high-alert, eyes darting over the crowd for signs of anything suspicious. 

But there's one other thing that keeps arresting his attention––and that's the presence of Lance at his side, how they’re standing so close together in the crowded room, how their shoulders keep brushing. Keith doesn't make any eye contact with him, still recovering from those strangely intimate moments in the depths of the castle. He's certain he'll pick them apart later with agonizing scrutiny. 

After the ceremony ends––heralded by an uproarious applause from the crowd, the loudest cheers coming from Team Voltron––the guests scatter to drink and converse throughout the palace corridors. 

Keith needs fresh air. Almost as soon as everyone has dispersed, he ducks out of the hall and down a deserted corridor until he comes to a small balcony. 

He steps outside, inhaling the cool night air. Darkness has fallen, but the glow of the moon casts a lavender light over the landscape below––distant mountaintops, dots of light glowing in the valleys where a few small villages are situated. Keith leans forward to prop his elbows on the railing. 

"Thought I might find you out here."

Keith tenses. He turns to find Lance ambling towards him, his hands buried in his pockets and a sheepish smile on his face. He comes to a stop at Keith's side, surveying the view in front of them. He's quiet for a moment, scratching the back of his neck. "Not that I'm trying to interrupt or anything. If you want me to go––"

"No," Keith says, maybe a little too quickly. He clears his throat. "It's okay. I was just ... thinking."

"Yeah? About what?"

"I think ..." Keith takes a deep breath, chewing his bottom lip as he debates telling Lance what he's thinking. Something he's been considering for a while now. "I think I might leave the Blade."

"Oh." Something unreadable flickers across Lance’s expression, like he was expecting Keith to say something else. "Why?"

Keith drums his fingers against the railing. "A lot of reasons, but mostly I just don't feel like I belong with them. It's not like being with you guys, with Team Voltron. I mean, I'm glad they helped me learn who I was and that it led me to meeting my mom. And of course, I care about helping people and defending the universe and all. But I can find other ways to do that. I feel like tonight ... it reminded me of that." 

It’s a lot more than he usually says in one breath, and he comes to an abrupt stop. There’s a tense silence while Keith awaits Lance’s response––waits for Lance to tell him he’s crazy, that he’s throwing away something vitally important.

Instead Lance says, “That makes sense.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, I mean … I know you joined the Blade to get more in touch with your Galra side or whatever, and that’s important. But, I don’t know. You’ve just never seemed _happy_ with them.”

Something about that strikes a chord. Now that he thinks about it, Keith can’t remember the last time he did something for the purpose of making himself _happy_. Almost every decision he’s made in the past couple of years has been because of a sense of duty, not really for his own wellbeing.

“Actually,” Lance says, “that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

He shifts on his feet, eyes downcast. It reminds Keith of that time, years ago, when Lance came walking into his room––crossing his arms, avoiding Keith’s gaze, expressing his fear that he wasn’t a vital part of their team.

“Back in the basement, when we thought the bomb was about to go off … it got me thinking,” Lance continues carefully. “Mostly I was just scared, but I was also thinking about all the things I would never get to do. Like, watch my niece and nephew grow up, or have a family of my own someday. There are so many things I don’t want to miss out on, you know? And I don’t …” 

He exhales, finally daring to look Keith in the eyes. “I don’t want to miss out on you.”

Keith stares back at him, dumbfounded. _Wait … what?_ Surely Lance isn’t saying what Keith thinks he’s saying. Or the bomb really did go off, and this is some elaborate hallucination in the afterlife. 

Lance must mistake his stunned silence for a negative reaction, because he quickly looks away again and clears his throat. “I––I mean, this might seem out of the blue, and I know things would be complicated since I’m living on Earth and you’re still with the Blade and all, and––oh, my God. I’m sorry. I don’t even know if you––”

His nervous rambling comes to a halt then––because Keith reaches out and grabs him by the tie, pulls him forward, and kisses him.

It’s a little rushed––a brief, hard press of their lips together. But it’s enough to ignite a wild fluttering sensation in Keith’s chest when he pulls back, taking in the sight of Lance’s dazed expression. 

“I don’t want to miss out on you, either,” Keith says.

There’s a split second where where he feels like he’s dangling on the edge of a precipice, where he worries he somehow misinterpreted what Lance was saying and has just made the most mortifying mistake of his life.

But he knows a moment later that it was the farthest thing from a mistake––because Lance almost literally has stars in his eyes as he smiles back at Keith and huffs out a laugh, fond and disbelieving. He reaches up to brush a thumb along Keith’s jaw before leaning in to kiss him back.

Keith never imagined things unfolding this way––that anything like this would happen at all, really. But somehow it all feels so _right_ , like he was waiting for it his entire life and didn’t know it. The two of them under a sky full of stars, Lance’s hand in his hair, his own fingers clenching into the fabric of Lance’s jacket.

He doesn’t know what the future holds, or how they’re going to make this work, but that hardly seems to matter when he feels Lance smile against his mouth. 

What he does know is that for once in his life, he’s made the right choice. And for now, that feels like enough.

**Author's Note:**

> once again, thanks for reading! and you're always free to hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/angst_in_space) or [tumblr](https://angst-in-space.tumblr.com/)!!


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